Albatross
by NightWolfMoon
Summary: Sequel to "Nevermore". The world's seams are coming apart much more quickly now, and action needs to be take to keep it from spiraling into the darkness the Giltebreks will use to seize control. The Duncan family has already been shoved into the middle of this war so many have no knowledge of existing. Will they be able to get enouth needles out to sew the seams back together?
1. Dreaming Away Time

_**This is the sequel to "Nevermore" as said in the summary, so it'd be best to read that first if you have not. Anyway, sorry that it had taken me so long to finally get the first chapter posted. That being said, there is good likely-hood that there will be varying stretches of time in wait between chapters due to other stories, classes, and a social life. (Kidding about the last one; I barely know what that is. X3) Also, like in "Nevermore", the chapter titles come from works of literature, none of which I own, and at the end of each chapter are a few stanzas of "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Anyway, please enjoy!**_

_**Begin Part II: Albatross**_

**Chapter 1: Dreaming Away Time**

"_A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person." - Mignon McLaughlin_

The wedding had started just as bands of pink and orange began to push back against the pale blue that ruled the sky. The sun was making way for a maiden moon approaching the first quarter of her cycle, and leaves painted like fire had already begun to fall to the ground. The cool air of mid-September that kept people on their toes and reminded the populace of the approaching winter whispered through the park, Teddy sitting within the shadows of the wooded area, her grey bucket hat hiding part of her face in a thin veil of shadow. She sat at the base of a beech's trunk, knees pulled up to her chest and light blue backpack within easy reach so she could leave quickly and with the least amount of detection from the crowd gathered about thirty feet from where she hid.

It was hard to distinguish the faces, and Teddy's already-sore neck was beginning to feel strained from having to look around the trunk to gaze upon the scene she had sworn to her brother she would do everything within her power to attend.

A beautiful, dark violet dress that had been worn to several formal functions alerted Teddy to her mother's presence. Amy sat in the second row, and Teddy could see that she had her hair up in a bun, ringlets falling away from it as if her hair were trying to escape the confines of hairspray and bobby pins and flutter about her rounded shoulders in the gentle breeze. A daisy had been put into the bun, likely by the fourteen-year-old girl sitting between her and her husband.

It was easier for Teddy to see her mother, who sat on the edge and was doing her best to try and smile at this happy occasion, but the turn of Amy's head kept alerting the eldest Duncan daughter that Amy was more focused on her husband. However, Bob only looked forward, holding Charlie close to him as if trying to protect her from the woman that sat on her other side.

Bob wore a suit once too small for him but now nearly fit perfectly due to all that weight he had lost when Charlie had gone missing. He wore a daisy in the pocket of his suit, also likely put there by Charlie, trying to link her parents together once again in any way she could.

The teenager had her sandy blonde hair styled in a graduated bob, the feathered back ending at the top of her neck—much too short for her in Teddy's opinion—and swooping down to an inch or so above Charlie's small chin, curling slightly along her square jaw. She looked forward, eyes only occasionally going to her mom or dad as if trying to plead with them to fall in love again.

Could their love not be renewed as PJ's and Jennifer's began to blossom into full beauty? Out of one warzone and into another, it seemed as if Charlie just could not catch a break. Of course Amy and Bob would try to at least put on a good face in front of their little girl, but Charlie was no idiot, and the walls of the house had never been soundproof. Even up in the room that had been left undisturbed until her return, Charlie would be able to hear the arguments. The crying. The objects thrown and shattering against walls or floors.

Fights while Teddy and her brothers had been in the house had mostly been yelling and maybe the odd acts of sabotage (emphasis on _odd_). This, right now, though, was hundreds of times worse. Even with all of their fights, there had never been any question on whether Bob and Amy loved one-another. Now, it looked as if that question was actually rearing its ugly head. Teddy had once believed that there was no way for two people to simply fall out of love, but there was _nothing_ simple about this situation. Lies or feelings of betrayal often sent people over the edge on one's own.

But _together_?

Together, those two things could create a pit of despair and hatred so wide and deep, only a miracle could carry the people out again.

Love was a miracle, but what about when even that had been lost? Could hope truly survive?

Blinking back tears, Teddy turned her eyes back towards her brother as he slid the ring onto Jennifer's finger, their eyes locked and PJ smiling as wide as his mouth could go. He wore an off-white _sherwani_, delicate designs Teddy was too far away to see sewn throughout the silk. His usually-shaggy, sand-blond hair was styled carefully, swept away from his bright blue eyes that shone and glittered with mirth Teddy had not seen in so long. It looked as if he saw only his bride existed; it was absolutely impossible for him to keep a smile off of his face.

Although Teddy could not see Jennifer's face, she knew that the woman was smiling just as widely as her groom, hair tumbling down her back and over her shoulders in soft waves the breeze played with, which giggled all the while. She wore a _lehenga_ that was colored vermillion and pale gold with patterns of teal, burgundy, and white. Teddy had only gotten a glimpse of Jennifer's front as she walked down the aisle, but the sight of such a stunning bride had made Teddy smile.

She had once pictured herself walking down the aisle in a flowing, white gown with a train so long, even people a block away from the chapel would have been able to follow her path and bathe in her bliss. Although, seeing Jennifer in red with most of her right arm bare and her left arm veiled in the fabric that teetered between translucent and opaque and swept over her body in a gentle embrace made Teddy rethink color and style options.

_Now all I need is a groom_, thought Teddy, allowing a sad smile.

It had been a little over a week since that conversation in the cemetery with Allison, and Teddy felt like she may be able to move on from the grief of Spencer's death one day. She knew that there would always be pain in her heart—that there would always be the question "What if?"— but she had found truth in her old friend's words after meditating over them while wandering through the park that evening.

Spencer wouldn't have wanted Teddy to allow herself to be killed due to grief. It would be no better than committing suicide, something Spencer would have yelled at her for even _thinking _about. There was a time for grief, but Teddy shouldn't allow it to confine or define her. She had to learn to move on and honor his memory through her actions. Teddy was stronger than to let grief tie her down. Spencer had once called her his firework. Teddy wanted to be that firework again.

Only, the thing about fireworks was that soon after they exploded, they lost their light forever. Spencer had been steadier, like the gentle flickering of a candle flame. He should be the one still walking this Earth.

_Stop it!_ Teddy cried in her mind, gritting her teeth.

She couldn't think like that anymore. Saying that Spencer _should_ be alive wouldn't do anything to alter his state, and keeping her thoughts on that train would only cause Teddy harm. She was undoubtedly on the radar of every ABC agency in the US, and she probably wouldn't be safe overseas—not that she wanted to risk trying to get onto a plane.

How long until they realized Taylor Jones was an alias? Taylor Smith? How long until the name Teddy Duncan popped up? It wouldn't take a genius to connect the dots, right? Though they would need to know exactly _where_ to look.

There could very well be people who knew _exactly_ where to look, but Teddy wasn't going to worry about that now.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Teddy hadn't heard it, but there was no question about that being what the justice of peace had said when PJ and Jennifer were suddenly leaning in, kissing gently as if suddenly conscious of the dozens of people watching, many different camera flashes going off at once as the flames of the three pillar candles on the altar flickered as if in joy. The look in PJ's eyes as he gazed at his wife made Teddy's heart swell as the corners of her mouth turned up in a grin. The sting of tears came once again, but she did nothing to stop them from sliding down her rosy cheeks.

Right then, Teddy realized that her tears were all of which she had not yet shed. A week ago, it had seemed like she had been done nothing _but_ cry, but those had been tears of hatred, anger, and despair that seemed to be eating away at her from the inside out.

They had been the tears of stumbling into the darkness of ending.

These, however, were tears that made all of those feelings seem to grow lighter and float away. They were tears of leaping towards the light of beginning, just like that tall, white candle between the shorter red candles—a unity candle. PJ and Jennifer were being joined as one, yet neither lost his or her identity, leaving all three candles alight.

There was no beginning without an end, just as there was no end without a beginning. Only, neither came easily. It was all-too simple to become trapped, but Teddy knew she had the strength to escape. Seeing her older brother smile as he thought of the new beginning he would have with his bride, Teddy vowed that she would fight. She could grieve, but she would then move on and remember Spencer for how he had lived—not how he had died. She would not merely _reach_ acceptance.

She would _surpass_ it and reach _peace_. That was what they all fought for, was it not?

Teddy was going to prove that she could not be so easily beaten.

Turning away from the wedding as the ceremony came to a close and getting to her feet, Teddy grabbed her backpack, slinging it over one shoulder. Limping away, she did nothing to wipe away her tears or smile.

Veins on fire with renewed determination, Teddy thought, _Bring them on_.

**XXX**

Sitting on Gabe's left was his still-angry father, who had only acknowledged him with a curt nod before going to his seat. On Gabe's right was Jennifer's older brother, Ravi, though that spot had originally been for Jo. It was hard seeing the thirty-seven-year-old man sitting in her seat, but Gabe knew that it would have been much harder seeing an empty chair beside him.

It had been a wonderful ceremony, but the exquisite beauty was more like a rose. It looked lovely, but the thorns kept him from venturing too closely. There were those who claimed that roses were more beautiful with thorns, one of those people having been Teddy.

Every Valentine's Day in high school when girls would get carnations—"cheap roses" as she had called them with a roll of the eyes—Teddy had always said she wanted a single red rose in the process of blooming, the stem still covered in the thorns nature had blessed it with. Teddy had claimed that roses showed that love never came easily, that there was always the threat of pain surrounding the miracle-inducing emotion.

After having had thorns puncture every space of skin on his body, Gabe now had a better understanding of the kind of pain his older sister had been speaking of with a wistful look on her face as she tended the garden their mom had allowed her to create. Yet, it seemed as though Gabe's rose had lost all its petals, only leaving the everlasting thorns. Beauty died while pain seemed to be immortal.

Only, the beauty hadn't died on its own. Gabe had strangled it, the ruby petals having fallen from his hands like blood.

"You may now kiss the bride."

There was no stopping the small smile that appeared on Gabe's round face as PJ gently took his bride's face in his long fingers strengthened by years of playing guitar. PJ's and Jennifer's lips met in a gentle hush as if both were shy of sharing this moment in front of so many people, the kiss only deepening after a moment as the two seemed to lose sight of anyone except one-another.

It was a sweet moment Gabe couldn't help but think about how Jo would love to somehow capture onto a canvas. She would draw them with in a stylized style with black Sharpie and surround them with roses and lotus flowers done in acrylics or colored pencil—maybe collage. She would probably use watercolor for the sunset and even add petals floating in the breeze, oil pastels for the candles to really bring out the brightness of the flames. The roses would create a thorn-covered frame.

Gabe's smile turned sad. _Jo loved roses just as much as Teddy for the very same reasons, even though she'd never admit it._

He remembered that when Jo had been hospitalized due to a complication caused by mono in tenth grade, Gabe had brought her a bouquet of paintbrushes inside a tall cup he had (clumsily) made himself on the school's pottery wheel, the art teacher having helped him with the glaze and firing. Along with the brushes had been a necklace, the charm being a little bottle filled with florescent yellow dust, the bottle labeled _Toxic._

He had also included a cheap mp3 (pilfered from PJ's old things) with a little over fifty songs. Gabe and Jo had broken up for the second time two weeks before Jo had ended up in the hospital, and Gabe had thought that Jo hated anything and everything considered girly. He had thought even the necklace would have been pushing it, and he had left it while she was asleep, leaving before she had woken up. There, however, he had noticed that there had been a white rose left on the bedside table by her cousin Diane.

_Nothing was ever boring…_ Gabe watched as the approaching night began to cast shadows over everyone, making everything look to be veiled by mystery. _But this is PJ's day. His and Jen's._

Soon, everyone was crowding around the new Mr. and Mrs. Duncan, offering congratulations and giving hugs and handshakes. The bridesmaids (wearing light blue saris that showed off their stomachs) and groomsmen (wearing similar outfits as PJ but colored red and orange) mingling and being among the first ones to give Jennifer a hug or PJ a handshake. Bob went and gave PJ a smile and handshake before Charlie threw herself at him with one of her crushing hugs.

"Congratulations, PJ!"

PJ's breath had rushed out of him from the hug, but he then laughed and returned the embrace, surely still ecstatic from having his baby sister safely back in Denver. Her hair was back to its sandy shade of blonde, but it was still very short. Her bangs had been divided to either side of her face, always secured by bobby pins. She tended to complain about how she looked with such short hair, saying it made her face look "boxy". Gabe didn't care how she looked. He was still just happy she was back.

The teenage girl then left her brother to hug her new sister-in-law, Jennifer laughing as Charlie's arms went around her neck. "You look so great, Jennifer! I'm glad you're part of our family now."

"Thank you, Charlie. I'm glad to be a part of it as well."

Unable to stop smiling, Gabe went up to the lovely couple. "So you two glad I was in that car accident and got you crazy kids together?"

PJ lightly punched his younger brother in the shoulder, smile still in place as he shook his head, a few strands of his sandy-blond hair falling over his forehead. "Leave it to you to see how _you_ made this happen."

"Just call me the fairy god brother."

Charlie looked over at him and gave that smile Gabe recognized from himself as a kid when it came time to ask for Christmas or birthday presents. "Does that mean I get a new dress and glass slippers?"

Gabe rolled his eyes. "Sure, but the prince has to go through a two-hour interview with me."

"And me," PJ added, Jennifer nodding in agreement.

"What prince?" Amy set a hand onto her daughter's shoulder. "Someone I should know about?"

"No." Charlie's eyes went to the ground, a bit of blush dusting her cheeks.

The family joked, and Jennifer's parents joined in, getting to know everyone and complimenting the couple. The parents were also congratulated by everyone, and Jennifer's eyes widened as PJ blushed when Mrs. Mahajan asked when she was going to have some grandchildren.

The sun sank lower as the conversations spun throughout the park, little kids playing hide-and-seek and tag as parents yelled at them to stay away from the torches being lit.

It was great having everyone talking and working together. There seemed to be an unwritten rule saying not to ask or talk about what had happened with Charlie or where Teddy was, and Amy and Bob were actually being civil to one-another. It almost made Gabe think things were going back to normal.

Almost.

_PART ONE  
__It is an ancient Mariner,  
__And he stoppeth one of three.  
__'By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,  
__Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?_

_The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,  
__And I am next of kin;  
__The guests are met, the feast is set:  
__May'st hear the merry din.'_

_He holds him with his skinny hand,  
__'There was a ship,' quoth he.  
__'Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!'  
__Eftsoons his hand dropt he._


	2. With Childhood Faith

**Chapter 2: With Childhood Faith**

"_The real religion of the world comes from women much more than from men - from mothers most of all, who carry the key of our souls in their bosoms." - Oliver Wendell Holmes_

By the time Amy woke up the next morning, Bob was gone. She curled up into a ball for a minute or so before forcing herself to get out of bed. She could hear the scuttling of feet coming from upstairs, and Amy nearly laughed at the outburst of a foot finding a doorframe.

It seemed that all the Duncan kids were always running into things. PJ and Teddy had often had their eyes glued to their cell phones as teenagers, PJ once tripping _up_ the stairs and Teddy quickly finding out that she hated _feng shui_.

Gabe had often walked around the house only half-awake in the mornings when he was younger, sometimes running into walls and furniture but not registering any pain until later. Amy remembered him coming home from school, his entire day having been spent wondering where a large bruise on his shoulder had come from—Bob had told him at dinner that an evil door frame had jumped out in front of him that morning.

Charlie was no different from her siblings (or her parents, even, for that matter) and had tripped often as a child, up until she was eleven or twelve. For most kids, their feet grew, warning the parents of an upcoming growth spurt. Unfortunately, Charlie had always dared to be different, her feet staying small while she sprouted up more quickly than Bob and Amy could get her new clothes.

Bob used to always tell people that Charlie's skirts used to be dresses and that her shorts used to be pants. Long and gangly—"coltish" some had called her—it hadn't always easy for Charlie to find her balance, and she had often ran (and stumbled) home, tears ready to burst from teasing at school.

As Amy went over to the vanity and got out her foundation, she remembered how she would have to practically break down Charlie's door to make her say what was wrong. The girl had always been prideful, never wanting anyone to see her sweat, let alone cry. That had included her own parents, and there had been times where Amy had been tempted to read one of Charlie's numerous journals to discover whatever ailed her youngest child.

The shoulder angel had always won, though, and Charlie had always broken down and told Amy everything eventually. Amy had tried to work through every cliché in the parenting book, but Charlie had been as intelligent as her older sister and had been skeptical about all of the "You'll be their boss one day" and "They're just jealous of you" advice.

She had then taken Charlie's face in her hands, forcing her to make eye contact. Tears in her own eyes, Amy had told Charlie that she was beautiful and would grow into a beautiful young woman—she just had to know that herself, or else no one else would believe it either. She had told Charlie that if she wanted things to be better, she would have to make that her goal and work for it. Charlie had seemed to have responded better to that, though neither Amy nor Bob had expected her to have inherited Amy's short temper.

The next day that year, when Derrick, now one of her good friends, had teased her during snack time, Charlie had stood up, towering over him. She had then shoved her snack cake into his face, followed by a punch to the ribs and a stomp kick to the foot. Derrick had fought back, every kid in the hallway crowding around them and taking sides. The little devils had even set up bets with what snacks were left.

Recalling that agonizing phone call, Amy giggled softly as she changed into her cerulean scrubs. She had given Charlie a high-five behind Mrs. Mellish's back upon hearing that Charlie had pinned Derrick to the ground before the teachers had managed to pull her off of him.

"I miss those days," Amy whispered wistfully as she went back to the vanity to apply eye shadow and liner.

As soon as Charlie had come back home, Amy had fought to claw herself out of that hole she had plummeted into. She had started cooking and forced the food down her throat, and she could feel some weight lift from her shoulders and off of her chest every time Charlie gave her a hug or said, "I love you."

The morning after Charlie had arrived, she had called Richie, who had been trying to convince Bob to go back home to Amy. He had immediately handed the phone to Bob without telling him who it was, and Amy had shouted that Charlie was home before he had gotten the chance to hang up.

Bob had said nothing to that, but he and Amy had been on the line for a long time before Bob finally muttered that he was coming back and hung up. He had arrived at the house by the time Amy had begun to make lunch.

For Charlie's sake, he had moved back in and stayed civil around Amy. He pretended that she hadn't wronged him, but the façade was torn down when Charlie was out or asleep.

Amy didn't know which was worse: The fighting, or knowing what he thought of her but having to stay locked in those cold bars of silence.

The blizzard still raged even while the sun was finally visible through the gauzy clouds of the grey-smeared sky, and Amy wasn't sure how much longer she could take being trapped. Clawing herself out of that hole was taking so much out of her.

She needed help, but Amy had even more pride than her youngest daughter.

Pride may come before the fall, but as it turned out, it would take much more than a plunge like what she'd been though to knock that pride out of her.

**XXX**

It was like kindergarten all over again, but the rumors were much more malicious than Charlie giving Mason cooties.

Quickly-cast glances that held fear, bewilderment, or disgust were much worse than the dancing eyes of the bullies as they taunted Charlie and Mason for holding hands during recess.

Back then, Charlie had always stuck her tongue out at them, not caring what they thought and fully comfortable in the knowledge that she didn't have cooties. Much to the girl's disbelief, though, Mason _had_ cared and had refused to hold her hand not long after the teasing had started. They had never stopped hanging out, of course, but Charlie had been hurt back then that Mason had cared more about those jerks' idiotic comments than her.

It was harder to ignore everyone this time. The moment word had gotten around that Charlotte Duncan was back in Denver, rumors spun without mercy and with more imagination Charlie once thought possible except for a small handful of people. Someone had even gotten a picture of Charlie with her long pixie cut when Amy had taken her to the salon to get it into a style that Charlie would prefer—unfortunately, Charlie had ignored the stylist's advice and now just prayed her hair would grow quickly.

Luckily, Charlie's hair had been back to its original color, and she hadn't been wearing any of her faux piercings or dark clothes. Still, the odd look had added to the raging fire of gossip. The star of these rumors had made sure to write each of them down in her memo pad, and she had to admit that one of her favorites was being kidnapped, being forced to be a prostitute (or striper, depending on who told the story), and then changing her look to escape. Some of the other wild tales weren't as kind, and it was hard to believe that people actually bought some of that drivel.

_Can't totally blame them,_ thought Charlie with a sigh as she opened her locker. She had to crouch to reach it, trying to put all of her concentration towards getting the combination done correctly. If she focused on the numbers and spinning the dial perfectly, then she wouldn't have to listen to the various groups all around her.

There were people that looked at her like she had murdered someone; there were those that acted as if she were a kleptomaniac; some avoided her like she would infect them with just a glance; and others just watched when they thought she wasn't looking, as if she were on display and shouldn't be approached.

Charlotte Duncan had become an enigma. She said nothing about her time away or what had happened while being questioned by the police about her disappearance. Word was that Charlie had said nothing to them as well. There had been no news of any arrests or even word of suspects, and this, of course, had sprouted even more rumors.

Digging through her locker, Charlie blocked them all out. They didn't know the truth. What they said didn't matter.

So why did it hurt?

Maybe due to the fact that there were bits and pieces that _were_ true: Charlie had been on the run; she had been involved in someone getting killed; she had something to do with Teddy's disappearance…

_Teddy_. Charlie forced back her tears and grabbed her books for the first two periods and stuffed her deflated backpack in the back of the locker, hanging it on the hook. She then grabbed her blue binder and sea green pencil box before slamming her locker door shut. A few of the people closest to her jumped, but she was surprised that they could even hear that over the dull roar of voices and rummaged-though lockers. _Teddy, I'm sorry. I didn't want this…_

Teddy had chosen this path, Charlie knew, but she also knew that it was mainly on her behalf. Teddy wouldn't have been dragged into this if not for her.

"Charlie!"

"Liota!"

Both names were said at once, and Charlie stopped by the corner, ready to turn and head for her English Comp class. For the first week-and-a-half, Charlie had been taking test after test to check her aptitude, seeing as she hadn't been in a school for the past two years. All of the faculty members had been shocked to see that Charlie was actually _ahead_ in most of her studies.

Unfortunately, she couldn't skip geometry and head straight for algebra II or trigonometry (something about credits), but she'd been able to skip physical science and biology and choose between chemistry and physics. Charlie had gone with the former. (Somehow, the fact Charlie was in a science class mainly populated with juniors and seniors when she was just a freshman hadn't made it into the rumor mill.)

Coming towards Charlie and slowing to speed walking as they passed a couple of teachers were Jasmine and Derrick. Jasmine had her thick, rust-colored hair tied back in a French braid, only a few tight curls left to brush along the girl's slender, freckled face. She wore a wide smile and had a red hoodie tied around her tiny waist. Beside her was Derrick, who grinned at Charlie, his dark blue eyes hidden beneath long, wavy black hair that had once been brown. He brought the two girls to either side of him, arms thrown over their shoulders.

"So, Liota," said the wiry guy that stood over Charlie by one inch and Jasmine by two, "how was the wedding? Sorry I couldn't make it."

"Yeah, I'm sorry too." Jasmine leaned forward to give her friend an apologetic look.

Charlie smiled and waved her off as the three headed for first period. "It's fine. You guys had a gig, I understand. I heard it was great."

Derrick flashed a grin. "It was so ace! I stumbled a bit on one of the chords—"

"No one noticed," Jasmine assured. She ducked away from Derrick's arm once in the classroom and went to her seat near the back corner, the other two following.

Letting go of Charlie, Derrick let her get to her seat between Jasmine and the tall, thin window. "Yeah, yeah, but Jazz definitely took the show."

"I play the flute." Jasmine watched as Derrick sat in the desk in front of her. "And sometimes violin."

"You also got real neba dance moves," he added. "You definitely tied with Penni for popularity with the audience."

"Thanks." Jasmine got her stuff out from her bulging backpack (she never used a locker) as she smiled, and Charlie smiled in return as she opened her binder to the correct section and slid her geometry book beneath her desk.

Last year, Derrick had formed a band. While Derrick played lead guitar, his friend Gerard played bass, a guy named Peter was on drums, a guy whose name escaped Charlie's mind also played guitar, and Penni was the vocalist. She also played the keyboard sometimes, and Derrick had talked Jasmine into playing her flute with the band. Jasmine also played the violin, sometimes playing that depending on the song.

From the couple of times Charlie had heard them play, they were great, but she couldn't help but think that if she had stayed and worked at it, _she_ could be in the band, playing the drums. She hadn't lingered on the thought long after talking with Peter for a while, but the band was one of the many reminders of just how long Charlie had been away.

Upon her return, Derrick and Jasmine had taken her back in, trying to act like nothing had changed and that Charlie had never been gone. They had been trying to shield her from all the rumors, and it had been them, Mason, Corey, Laura, and Tammi that had circled around her like the Secret Service around the President when reporters and journalists had descended upon the school's yard.

Mason and Tammi acted a little more awkward around Charlie, like she may break at any time. They stumbled over themselves to try and make things seem normal, which only made everything all the more uncomfortable. Cory and Laura tended to seem like they weren't sure how to act around her but tried their best to follow the others' leads.

_On Charlie's first day of school, she arrived at the lunch table with Jasmine to her left and Mason to her right, making her feel like she was a frail child that needed protection. It was like they were her bodyguards rather than her friends._

_Still, Charlie kept a smile on her face as she chortled, the three talking about how Charlie used to steal Mason's cupcakes his mom would make him each week. Charlie nearly doubled over with laughter when Mason talked about how he had gotten fed up with it and had hid his cupcake in his friend's cubby and brought a fake cupcake to lunch. It was Play Dough, but he had piled on so much frosting, Charlie hadn't noticed until it was too late._

"_You were so evil!" Jasmine guffawed, setting her tray down to sit next to Laura._

"Charlie_ was the one that kept stealing my cupcakes!" Mason shot back, walking around the long table to sit across from Laura, Charlie sitting to his right._

_The blonde just stuck out her tongue at him, tucking her short hair behind one ear as she picked up her corndog and ignored Derrick's snicker. "What? You expected me to eat the _school's_ desserts?!"_

_After getting elbowed in the ribs by Laura when he gave another snicker when Charlie added mayonnaise to her ketchup, Derrick finally asked the question everyone had been dying to ask but too scared to voice aloud:_

"_So… Where ya been off to, Liota? I already punched a guy for saying you whored yourself for food. Who else do I need to beat up?"_

_That part of the table fell into silence, and Laura gaped at him as if in disbelief that he had the audacity to actually ask that. Similar looks were worn by the others, but Charlie only set her corndog back down onto the tray and looked up coolly at him._

"_No need." She gave the barest of smiles. "But I'm tired of answering questions after that nightmare with the police, and things are strained at home." Her eyes closed, a corner of her mouth flinching as she told herself to calm down. "I'll tell you guys later, 'kay? I promise."_

_And it was left at that, Derrick and Jasmine jumping back into normal conversations. It took a couple of minutes longer for Cory and Mason to join back in, but Tammi and Laura were mostly quiet for the rest of the lunch period._

The door shut, bringing Charlie out of her thoughts. Mrs. Miller went to her podium, and everyone turned to face the front and begin their discussion on _The Iliad_.

Charlie had already read it while in Texas, but she had gone back over the notes, making sure to get her notecards done last month while also making sure to send that essay on _Great Expectations_ to Natasha.

Reading a portion from an epic poem, a novel, and an assortment of plays, short stories, and poems for one class actually sounded like a breeze compared to those classes Natasha, Scarlett, and Sierra put her through, which had always felt like they were overcompensating for taking her out of school.

Mrs. Miller fixed her glasses, hazel eyes on her book as she began to read.

Barely listening, Charlie was already writing down possible ideas and thesis statements for her essay, which would be due in late October. _The Illiad _was interesting enough, but she would have preferred to read something new. She couldn't really say that she was overjoyed to be back in the monotonous shuffle of school life, but as long as it was off-set by being in the company of her best friends, she'd trudge through everything it had to chuck her way.

She would keep her promise to her friends.

None of them had bothered her with it since that day at lunch, but she could tell that they were all dying to know what had gone on the past two years. They wanted answers. It was perfectly understandable, expected.

This Friday, there would be a slumber party at Tammi's. She, Jasmine, and Laura would be there, and Derrick, Cory, and Mason would be allowed to stay until nine o'clock.

Charlie would tell them then, but she was still wary about telling Laura and Cory. They didn't believe any of the rumors, Charlie was sure, but she didn't like that they seemed so apprehensive towards her. That was likely not their intention, so Charlie would talk to them before the party. She needed to know that they wouldn't abandon her.

The possibility of being abandoned by those she loved scared Charlie more than anything the Giltebreks could _ever_ throw her way.

_He holds him with his glittering eye-  
__The Wedding-Guest stood still,  
__And listens like a three years' child:  
__The Mariner hath his will._

_The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone:  
__He cannot choose but hear;  
__And thus spake on that ancient man,  
__The bright-eyed Mariner._

_'The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,  
__Merrily did we drop  
__Below the kirk, below the hill,  
__Below the lighthouse top._


	3. Health and a Day

**Chapter 3: Health and a Day**

"_Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore." - Andre Gide_

Five times, Teddy changed her mind and set forth to head back to one of the parks. Apparently, it was the sixth time that was the charm, the woman taking deep breaths as she clenched her hands into fists, nails digging into her dry, blistered palms.

The bucket hat was pulled forward, and as Teddy walked, she noticed some people already donning light sweaters and hoodies. Denver didn't just suddenly begin to freeze as if Jack Frost had gotten carried away, but Teddy still remembered being unable to sleep last night with the cold continually nipping at any spot of exposed skin it could find. It was looking like winter would be coming early, the playful September wind carrying a haunting note to warn the populace of the coming season.

Teddy paused but then darted across the street, walking quickly with long strides to find the Greene-dePalo home.

The front porch was small with a concrete floor and stucco walls, two metal chairs on either side of a small, wrought-iron table to the left of the door, situated to where the people could look out to the road while conversing. It was a large house that made Teddy smile despite herself as she approached the driveway, which ran down next to one side of the house to a port at the back.

Stepping on the narrow walk that circled a small garden half-way to the front porch, Teddy paused for a moment and gazed at the flowers that seemed to be attempting to reach for the sun, either unknowing or uncaring of the approaching cold.

The scents filled her nose, and she allowed her mouth to stay in its gentle curve as she looked up at the jasmine and gardenias in the front garden, situated in the back as if to hide the windows. In front of the bushes were clusters of various flowers and herbs, which Teddy did not know all the names of. Closer to the sidewalk, almost isolated from the other plants, though, was a bed of flowers Teddy always instantly recognized: roses.

Seeing roses always brought back wonderful memories, that bed especially. It was full of blossoming and full-bloomed majesties of color: red, pink, white, peach, yellow, and purple.

When Krystle and Allison had first bought this house nearly five years ago, Teddy had told them to plant roses. Krystle loved gardening, and Allison had wanted beautiful flowers and plants to decorate her yard and remind her of her parents' home. So, roses had been the first thing to be planted, Teddy helping and laughing at how little Allison had known about gardening.

Alice had been there too, light brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail and rescue inhaler at the ready. New medicine she had started taking in college had helped greatly with her asthma, but she still carried it around just in case. All four girls had had a wonderful time, and Teddy's eyes went to the concrete of the driveway as she walked up to the porch, remembering how Allison had thrown a clod of dirt at her chest, sick of all the teasing. That had started a major dirt-clod war , which had ended when Ivy finally arrived.

Stopping, Teddy stared at the three steps that would take her onto the porch. With a deep breath, she lifted her sneaker-clad foot onto the first one, the front door opening before Teddy had a chance to change her mind again and run the other way.

Standing in the doorway holding a cup of tea with a couple of cookies balancing on the saucer was Krystle, brown-black hair pulled back away from her diamond-shaped face by a white headband.

"Teddyursa?" She set the saucer down onto the small table in the foyer, pushed up to the wall beside the door. "Oh, blessed is Tisanisenka, you are here."

She pronounced "blessed" as "bless-ed", her voice a gentle hush, deep green eyes shimmering. She came forward quickly, taking Teddy's hands in hers. Standing only at the first step, Teddy had to look up slightly to meet Krystle's soft gaze, even though she was usually roughly three inches taller than her.

"Please come in." Voice soft and even, it was only by the glitter of those large eyes Teddy could perceive any emotion.

There was relief and mirth, the woman filled with gladness that Teddy was here and safe.

"Alec said nothing of your approach." Her eyes darted towards the concrete bench next to the driveway. "Your heavy must backpack be." She paused, eyes going far away for a moment. She then blinked hard, but while her gaze met Teddy's, she still seemed light-years away. "Would you like me to take it?"

"Um…" Teddy swallowed, still wondering on whether she should go in or not. "No, thank you. It's fine."

From inside, Allison called, "Tilly! Why did you leave the door op—" She froze when she caught sight of Teddy. "You came." Her voice was soft. "Come on in." She came onto the porch, looking like she wanted to hug Teddy but wasn't sure how she'd react. "Tilly, make her some coffee. Or would you like tea? We also have plenty of food if you're hungry, and guest rooms are ready—"

"Alli," Krystle interrupted in a calm tone. "Do not scare her off." She made a low sound that could be interpreted as a chuckle. "Teddy, please come." She pulled lightly on Teddy's hands, and she nodded and finally made the rest of the way onto the porch. "Sure you are your backpack is fine?"

"Yes." Teddy took a breath. "Um, but I haven't showered in a couple of days. I mostly stayed at the parks," she said softly, almost embarrassed. "May I…?"

"Of course," Allison and Krystle chorused, taking Teddy into the house and closing the door behind them.

The foyer led straight to the kitchen in the back, a spacious den on the left. There was a spiral staircase in the corner, leading up to the second floor. A parlor was to the right of the foyer.

It was definitely a beautiful house, and she turned to the left to gaze at her reflection in the tall mirrors on the far wall of the den. She knew them to be two-way mirrors, the actual wall a little over three feet farther than how it looked from inside. Many of the walls had also been added to so that they would absorb sound, and Teddy briefly wondered why she had never really asked about all of it before.

_Oh, right_, she thought as Allison led her into the parlor, the tall bookcases making the room seem smaller than it was, papers on the oval-shaped table in the middle of the room and some books on the light grey, plush bench closest to the window. _I used to think it was just because of Krystle's paranoid tendencies_.

"Anything to eat or drink when you come out?" Krystle inquired, standing in the archway between the parlor and foyer/hallway.

Taking a deep breath and not making eye-contact, Teddy murmured, "Tea, please. I like most kinds, so it doesn't really matter which." She maneuvered her body to take off her backpack, setting it onto the wood floor, by the light grey, plush bench near the short, dimly-lit hallway.

"Alright." Krystle turned and headed for the kitchen. "Take as long as you wish. I will keep it hot for you."

"You alright?" Allison's hazelnut-brown eyes were filled with concern, lips pressed together. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun secured by a silver-colored chopstick, and there were dirt stains on her jeans and blue tank top. She must have been in the greenhouse in the back not long before Teddy arrived.

After her nth deep breath, Teddy sighed, finally feeling the tension uncoiling from her muscles. "Better than when you last saw me."

"You mean _before_ PJ's wedding?" The short woman smirked playfully at Teddy's surprised expression. "I caught something moving in the shadows, but then I saw the hat and knew it was you." The smirk melted into a caring smile. "I figured you wouldn't want to miss your brother's wedding."

That smile was soon mirrored on Teddy's face as her warm brown eyes went to the dark wood floor. "No, even if I decided to high-tail it to Timbuktu, it'd have to wait until _after_ the ceremony."

Giggling, Allison got to her feet. "You remember where the bathroom is, but I'm going to be a gracious hostess anyway."

Teddy allowed Allison to lead her down the short hallway that ended up in the kitchen, the bathroom on the right not long after leaving the parlor. The shorter woman opened the door for her friend and stepped aside, blowing away some of the strands that had fallen over her copper face.

"All the towels are clean, and the shampoo and conditioner are under the sink along with the soap," Allison informed as Teddy flipped on the light, smelling lavender and vanilla.

"Thank you."

"No problem. Just leave your clothes on the floor, and we'll wash them. I'll go ahead and bring over your backpack and leave it out here so you have something to change into."

Nodding in thanks, Teddy closed the door as her friend skipped away, likely ecstatic that Teddy hadn't just left.

In the cabinet under the porcelain bowl sink, Teddy found many bottles of various shampoos, conditioners, and tiny wrapped bars of soap. It likely all had been pilfered from hotel rooms visited in the past, and Teddy grabbed some at random along with a wash cloth. Her grey felt hat was set next to the reed diffuser set on the ledge behind the toilet, and Teddy made a face at all the oil and grime that had accumulated at her roots.

She wanted to dye her hair as well, not really feeling the dark auburn color, especially since it was on the picture of Taylor Jones's ID (and also made her skin look paler, but the ID excuse made her sound less shallow). She could always talk to Krystle and Allison about it later after tea.

Even though Teddy hadn't mentioned it, she really _was_ hungry, not having had eaten as much as she should since leaving Nevada. Opposite of PJ, Teddy didn't eat when she was stressed or anxious. Her freshman year of college, she had actually fainted from lack of food; her roommate, Tasha, had then forced her into bed, stuffing her with shortbread cookies, baby carrots, toast, and a fruit smoothie.

Scarlett had been there to keep her in bed by doing the errands Teddy needed done as well as collecting notes from the two classes Teddy had missed that day.

Since then, Teddy had made sure to set the alarm on her phone to where it would sound an alarm every few hours and remind her to snack on something—Tasha had kept putting packs of crackers in Teddy's purse the first few weeks after the fainting incident.

Since then, Teddy had made sure to stop whatever it was she was doing if that light-headed feeling ever came.

There, in that bathroom, she was beginning to feel it again, stomach aching. She was pretty sure the super-intuitive Krystle had picked up on it—or had heard the growling when she'd approached the house.

Teddy needed to stop stressing, stop running around like she was alone in the world, and stop thinking like there was no one left for her to trust. She needed people to help her, like Tasha did with the food and mothering. She needed to be able to trust again, and Krystle and Allison would be a good start for that.

Sighing at her exhausted-looking reflection, Teddy tried on the barest of smiles. She then stripped off her clothing and allowed a quick blast of cold water to shock her back into the world. She then took the large bucket at the back of the tub and filled it up, keeping it near the faucet and crouching behind it with the washcloth and soap. Once the bucket was filled, the water in it was lukewarm.

After scrubbing away the grime, dirt, and oil until her skin was practically raw and her scalp actually burned a little from scratching and scrubbing at the roots, Teddy stepped out of the tub and dried herself with a vermillion towel, her hair beginning to gain some of its waves and slight curls at the ends, giving her pageboy cut a slightly-layered look.

To Teddy, with this haircut, all she needed were glasses with black, plastic frames, and she could be a younger version of her librarian from junior high.

She yawned and bent back to crack her spine, exhaling softly in relief right after the flinch of pain. She didn't know which was more uncomfortable: a bed in a cheap motel that may be hosting a party of STDs for all she knew, or a bench in the park that, at least, got cleaned in the rain.

Teddy rolled her neck and wrapped the towel around her torso before cracking open the door and dragging in her backpack. She got dressed in jeans and a bohemian tunic, which hung loosely on her body. The sleeves fell to her elbows, and if Teddy had been wearing her holster and gun, it would have been hidden by the tunic, the hem falling to just above her mid-thigh.

Taking out her backpack and a hand towel to wrap her hair in, Teddy headed into the den, finding a tray with a large teapot and three over-turned cups sitting on the dark brown, rectangular coffee table, which had been dragged closer to the white-and-black cloth couch, which was pushed against the wall, by the spiral staircase and facing the wall of mirrors. There were also three plates holding cookies; scones; and toast next to jars of butter, honey, and jam.

On the couch were the other two women, who were sitting close together and conversing softly, Krystle giving a small shrug at what Allison said as she finished one of the cookies she'd had earlier.

"Hey," greeted Teddy softly.

Looking up, Krystle tilted her head a bit to the left as the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly. Allison beamed and tossed a comb over to the redhead. "Sorry I forgot to leave one in the bathroom."

Catching the comb easily, Teddy rearranged the towel to cover her shoulders so she could comb through her hair. "It's fine." She sat on the end of the couch where the back curved along where there was usually an arm, allowing her to lean back against the cushy pillow, sitting cross-legged. "I'd like to dye my hair soon, though. Any ideas?"

"Go ahead and drink some tea and get some food in you first," said Allison. "We can discuss things like hair and saving the world from falling into utter totalitarian rule later."

Nodding, Teddy set down the comb and came forward to get one of the cups with floral designs on the porcelain. As she turned her cup upright, Krystle stood and took a firm hold of the teapot, pouring amber liquid into the cup. There was a sweet scent to it, muted by a musky undertone.

"You like black tea, I hope," said Krystle.

"Not one of my favorites," admitted Teddy with a shrug.

"Well, it also has blackberries and sage, so you are more likely to taste that."

"Thank you." Teddy took her cup and sipped, allowing the heat to chase away the chill of her wash. The caffeine seemed to send a mild jolt through her body, and she watched as the other two filled their own cups. "Um, pass a cookie, please?"

Setting down her cup, Allison took up the plate (it matched the teapot) and held it out to Teddy, who took three of the small shortbread cookies.

Silence stretched on for some time, Teddy nibbling on her third cookie when Allison spoke:

"I know that it must have been bothering you, wondering about the government and if they're on to you. That must be why you're in a hurry to change your hair color."

"I also suggest a new cut." Krystle's voice was distant, eyes moving towards the window to her left.

A car passed by, and she flinched. Allison patted her on the leg, shushing her like one might a child. To some, it might seem condescending, but it calmed Krystle, and she nodded as she finished her scone.

Krystle continued in a soft voice: "But something somewhat mute. The color… dark… room is stark…" She shook her head in a jerky manner. "I am sorry. Alli, go on." She went back to nibbling her scone and stared out the window.

With a nod, Allison bent forward to where she could look around Krystle and meet Teddy's tawny-brown eyes. "From what's been gathered, they haven't made any connections back to 'Teddy Rachel Duncan'. They haven't even gotten as far as unwrapping 'Taylor Smith' yet. When Red said that Jones's history was air-tight, she meant it. It should be a pretty long while before they get anywhere."

"How do you know all this?" Teddy kept sipping her tea after finishing off her cookie. She went for another as Allison gave her reply:

"I may not as hopeless as my dad when it comes to computers, but this hacking stuff is over my head. All I know is that Tilly, Seán, and some others are getting information from a _printer_ of all things." She blew across her tea's surface before taking a long sip. "Tilly told me printers are basically like computers, and I don't know all the technical stuff, but they've gotten it to where Seán gets a copy of everything that's printed out. It may not sound like much, but the military is nowhere _near_ being paperless. I think Ekon once said that their giant cabinets full of nothing but copy paper is like one huge middle finger directed at Greenpeace."

As Allison laughed, Teddy had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep crumbs from escaping. She really didn't want to laugh right now. She didn't want to be comfortable. She needed someone to trust, but it shouldn't come so easily.

Trust was worked for, and just because Teddy was low on options, it didn't mean she should just give her trust away freely.

"So," said Allison, "you're safe right now. So take the time you need, and when you're ready, we'll start talking about how to kick some ass." She smirked as she picked up her cup of tea.

Swallowing the rest of a cookie, Teddy nodded. She then grabbed a piece of toast and set down her tea so she could spread on some butter and honey. "I'm ready _now_."

_The Sun came up upon the left,  
__Out of the sea came he!  
__And he shone bright, and on the right  
__Went down into the sea._

_Higher and higher every day,  
__Till over the mast at noon-'  
__The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast,  
__For he heard the loud bassoon._

_The bride hath paced into the hall,  
__Red as a rose is she;  
__Nodding their heads before her goes  
__The merry minstrelsy._


End file.
